


La Collina

by Walkinrobe



Series: So Dramatic [31]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 11:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19666216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinrobe/pseuds/Walkinrobe
Summary: A night out with the girls.A 'sexting gone wrong' story.Limoncello.Scott carrying a tipsy Tess up to bed.And some drunken sex ratings.





	La Collina

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a couple of days after ‘History Repeating’. 
> 
> Rookandpawn suggested a tipsy Tess. 
> 
> And I have complied.
> 
> A similar sexting story may or may not have happened to me to inspire part of this little story.
> 
> OK, who am I kidding? A similar thing definitely happened to me.

La Collina

She’s been really looking forward to going out tonight. Not just a little bit. A lot. A whole lot. Every time she’s thought about it she’s experienced a frisson of excitement. You know, that feeling you get as a kid when you think about your upcoming birthday party.

‘Hey, I’m heading out in a sec,’ she waltzes past Scott to grab her favourite handbag off one of the orange stools by the kitchen counter. He’s sprawled out on the couch, remote control in one hand, beer in the other, watching something on TV. He cheekily smiles at her from where he resides, beckoning her over with his eyes. 

‘Did you decide where you’re going?’ he enquires as she momentarily settles into his lap, her arm draped around his shoulder. 

‘The usual place,’ she closes her eyes and kisses Scott’s left cheek, drinking him in and feeling thankful for him. 

‘We should have stock in La Collina, you three would be eating and drinking us rich,’ Scott laughs.

La Collina is a cosy restaurant with awesome Italian food. The owners, Lorenzo and Sophia, are from Campania in Southern Italy and their ever changing menu is a feast of homemade pastas, traditional provincial dishes and amazing wine. Lorenzo and Sophia are as authentic as their food. She loves it there. It feels happy and out of harm’s way. It’s been the go-to place for her and her two besties, PJ and Mel, for about a decade. It’s the complete cliche - they almost always have the same table and Lorenzo doesn’t ever take their order, the food and perfectly matched wine just magically appear throughout the evening.

‘So, the three amigos ride again, eh?’ Scott reaches around her to put the remote control and his beer on the coffee table and his arms encircle her waist, tugging her to his chest before kissing her mouth. 

‘Nope, it’s just me and PJ tonight,’ she clarifies, ‘Mel is travelling for work again and her flight out of Honolulu got delayed. But I’m still ridiculously looking forward to tonight’.

She, PJ and Mel are a ‘triangle of awesomeness’ as she once described them to Scott in an alcoholic haze after the very first time they went out together. They had laughed all night. They are still laughing. That was almost fifteen years ago, when their eldest kids started school together. PJ and Mel are a balm for her soul. They are each other’s trusted cones of silence and keepers of secrets. 

To PJ and Mel she is just Tess, mother of four and wife to Scott, rather than one half of Virtue Moir. It felt like a homecoming, meeting them after the often faux friendships of the skating world. There is something so emotionally gratifying in finding common ground with people contemporaneously living the same life experiences as yourself. Their kids have grown up together. Their husbands are buddies. Their friendship has been a steady constant for one third of her life.

Put simply, PJ and Mel are her people. 

‘Tell PJ I said ‘Hello’ and that I hope she is wearing those red shoes that I love,’ Scott says before stroking her cheek with his thumb and delicately kissing her forehead. 

PJ dresses in only a way PJ can and she wears the most incredible, unique shoes. Given his appreciation for costuming, Scott never fails to recognise the detail of her chosen footwear. She loves that about her husband, it’s an extension of his kind heart and skill in making people feel great about themselves.

‘Will do, my love,’ she affirms as she goes to stand, ‘Make sure Ash heads to bed by 8pm, please. She’s got Regionals in three days’. 

He smacks her backside when she becomes upright. ‘Yep, will do, Sweetheart. I promised her that we could quickly run through everything before bed’.

‘You are a good Dad and she will definitely appreciate it,’ she says as she swipes her lipstick across her mouth and presses her lips together to even out the colour. Applying her lipstick after she kisses Scott goodbye is a routine she started way back when she was first pregnant with Tom.

‘Will you wait up?’ she asks hopefully, suggestively shrugging her shoulders.

‘Unlikely,’ Scott sniggers.

She pouts.

‘Tessa Jane, the last two times you’ve arrived home from dinner messy. In no state for anything other than sleeping. But I’ll fall asleep here on the couch, wake me when you get in and we can go up to bed together,’ he offers. ‘Because you’ll probably need help with the stairs’. 

He raises his eyebrows in a way that challenges her to dispute the fact that a lot of wine was consumed on their last couple of girls' dinners. 

She cannot. 

He has a point. 

‘Oh Moir, where’s the spontaneity in our relationship if you know me so well,’ she calls as she walks towards the front door.

‘Good night family members,’ she sings out as she walks past the stairs. Four disembodied mini-Moir voices shout back assorted farewells. 

‘Have a great night, Virtch,’ Scott yells back.

*

Here’s what everyone should know about her gorgeous PJ. She is funny as fuck. She has a fabulous, distinctive laugh. She is warm and genuine. She doesn’t take herself too seriously. She loves her husband and kids to the moon and back. She gives excellent advice. She loves Mel just as much as she does. And there is nothing she and PJ can’t discuss. 

Her favourite phrase to come out of PJ’s mouth is, ‘You want to hear too much information?’ 

Because, hell yes, of course she does. And whatever the ‘too much information is’ will be hilarious and real and perfect.

She walks into La Collina and the aroma of amazing Italian food is overwhelming in the very best way.

‘Tess, Ciao Bella,’ sings Sophia before rushing in to kiss both of her cheeks.

‘Right back at you,’ she smiles to Sophia.

‘PJ is already at your usual table, Lorenzo will bring wine in a minute. Go relax, sit Tesoro,’

She does as she’s told. When she gets to the table PJ stands up to greet her. She notices that PJ is wearing her amazing red shoes, the ones that Scott mentioned. 

She doesn’t even need to say hello to PJ, she just wraps her arms around her and pulls PJ tightly to her chest. 

‘I’ve missed you, I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks. And before I forget, Scott said to say he was hoping you’d be wearing those,’ she points to PJ’s shoes.

‘Missed you too. And thanks to Scott on the shoe compliment. God, you smell so good. What is that? That’s not your usual fragrance,’ PJ observes.

‘Oh, clever girl. It’s new. It’s Clinique’s Aromatics In White. Scott bought it for me duty free in Japan trying to get rid of his remaining Yen. It’s was a good pick, don’t you think?’ She puts her wrist to PJ’s nose. 

‘Definitely. I want it. Would it be Single White Female of me to buy it too? Sheesh. Shoes and fragrances - Scott’s a real renaissance man these days,’ PJ laughs.

‘Fuck, don’t ever say that to him,’ she begs PJ, ‘I will never hear the end of it. We all know his ego will survive without that compliment’.

Lorenzo comes to the table with two glasses of wine and a small antipasto platter. 

‘For our favourite girls,’ he says as he deposits the platter on the table. 

‘Thank you,’ she and PJ say in unison.

‘Bellas, you are very welcome. How hungry are you tonight? You want to share some Pumpkin Ravioli? Then we’re having Fritto Misto di Mare and Caprese Salad’.

‘Sounds perfect,’ PJ declares.

Lorenzo nods and glides back to the kitchen.

‘Status report, you first. Start with Amy, what’s the latest?’ she instructs PJ.

Amy, PJ’s husband’s first wife, is a Class A bitch. Amy hasn’t been married to Nick for over twenty five years but she still manages to wheedle her way into PJ and Nick’s lives on a semi-regular basis. This time her third marriage has ended and she’s plowing Nick for information on how she could have been a better wife. Thank fuck Amy and Nick never had any kids, that would have immeasurably complicated PJ and Nick’s life and been a nightmare. PJ and Nick have nineteen year old David and seventeen year old Claire. 

‘C'mon PJ, what’s happened with Nick and Amy since last we spoke? Also, are all Amys complete bitches?’ she asks as she scoops some salami onto her fork. ‘Scott just had a dream about a slutty Amy. Jordan has a batshit crazy colleague called Amy, and Ashy has an Amy in her class who has the potential to be Ilderton’s Regina George’.

This makes PJ chortle.

‘Definitely not all Amys are shameless hoes. Amy Verizon is a doll, you know, Jade’s mom from school, Jade in the same class as Claire and James. Hmmm. What is Nick saying to Amy these days? Well, it’s not ‘Fuck off you dumb whore’, which is what I’d like him to say’.

‘Oh dear,’ is all she can say in response.

‘Oh dear is right. Instead, it’s ‘There was fault on both our parts Amy, it’s all water under the bridge Amy, it was too long ago Amy’. I tell you, if Amy unexpectedly turns up on our doorstep one more time I will lose my mind and will not be held responsible for my actions,’ huffs PJ.

She looks at PJ and winces. 

‘Oh my God, I feel so good saying all that. Thank you,’ PJ cackles, ‘These dinners are so much better than therapy. It’s cheaper, you’re way better dressed than a therapist plus there is food and wine’. 

She couldn't agree more.

*

They talk non-stop all the way through the Pumpkin Ravioli, which is to die for, by the way. Who decided burnt butter was a thing? A genius, that’s who. Both of them unattractively snorting with laughter and falling over each other in hysterics. It is just what she needed to recharge her batteries. 

She knows she is so lucky to enjoy her family life. The comradeship borne from the trenches of motherhood is another element of her life she treasures. 

PJ is mid-story when the Fritto Misto di Mare and Caprese Salad are placed on the table. 

‘Your dinner is served,’ says a familiar voice.

Both her and PJ’s heads snap upwards.

‘Mel!’ they squeal in unison.

‘It is I,’ she deadpans then performs a little bow. ‘I am off that dreaded plane and have come straight here to have dinner with my girls. And do I have a story for you'.

They quickly stand to each give Mel a kiss and cuddle, as Sophia silently sweeps in with another wine glass, plate and some cutlery. 

And fuck. Yes. Please, please, please. Mel is a fabulous storyteller. She has an ability to weave hilarious nuance into her tales. Mel and her husband, Justin, have one child, a nineteen year old, Chloe. Chloe has inherited her mom’s storytelling gift and she often hears Tom roaring with laughter whenever he’s in Chloe’s company. Tom and Chloe shared their first kiss, something Scott doesn’t EVER let them forget. 

Right now, she desperately wants to hear Mel’s story. She wants to soak in Mel's company because she is the much loved third angle to their little triangle. She is self-depreciating, clever and calm, and some of their best ever vacations have been with Mel, Justin and Claire. 

‘I suggest filling your glasses so you can drink to my idiocy,’ Mel starts.

‘You haven’t even begun, yet I feel like this story will end up in your Hall of Fame. Oh my God please tell us,’ moves PJ.

‘My darling girls, I am a fuckwit of huge proportions, I hope my faux pas brings you much joy. Let me begin.’ says Mel.

She and PJ chuckle as they all clink their glasses together. She takes a big sip of wine. She has no idea how much she’s drunk over the course of the evening because her glass has never been empty. Lorenzo would consider it an abomination if his guests had empty glasses. But she know she is tipsy. OK, maybe the drunk side of tipsy. 

‘As you know, Justin and I each travel a fair bit for work. And while we have engaged in some delightful phone sex...’

‘Oh my God, I love phone sex,’ she offers in support to Mel. 

PJ and Mel look at her incredulously.

Shit. 

She’s definitely on the drunk side of tipsy.

‘Geez Tess, as much as you enjoy fucking on your washing machine?’ teases Mel.

‘Meeeeeeeeel,’ she drawls ‘Holy shitballs. Firstly, you know we weren’t actually having sex. And secondly, that happened on a holiday we took ten years ago!’ she whines.

‘Tess, um, firstly,’ Mel emphasises the ‘firstly’ then bursts out laughing, ‘that image is seared into my memory,’ she goes on, tapping her own temple with her forefinger. ‘You can’t unsee your friend sitting on a washer with her underwear around her ankles while her husband has his hands under her top. Scott may not have been balls deep inside you but he was sixty seconds away from it. And secondly, but more horrifyingly, was the strained, strangled voice he used to tell me ‘Just give us a minute please Mel, we’ll be right there’, his choice of words so polite and Canadian but his tone a desperate mix of horniness and mortification’.

‘Mel, please don’t ever stop bringing up the washer-sex story,’ PJ turns and high-fives Mel, ‘I’ve heard it so many times that I feel like I was the one that walked in on them. Yet it never, ever gets old,’ she cheers.

PJ pokes out her tongue.

She looks to Mel and PJ and affectionately rolls her eyes, ‘I have no idea why I like you both so much’.

‘Anyways, back to my own mortification, please,’ Mel begins again. ‘So, phone sex is a yes, but sexting had been a no. Until this past week. Justin had facetiously written ‘Fuck you’ in response to a text request that I had made to him about something or other. It’s not important. So, I decided to amp it up a bit and texted back to him "Come over to Honolulu and I’d be happy to do that, baby. I want it HARD" '. 

Both she and PJ collapse in giggles.

‘However, unbeknownst to me, Justin was in his car. With Chloe. Our Chloe, you know, the supremely judgey nineteen year old whom I birthed. Chloe had his phone. In her hands. She was searching for something on iTunes. And when she saw my name flash up she said, "Mom has sent you a text". And of course Justin said "READ IT OUT TO ME",’ Mel says slowly.

She and PJ gasp.

‘So Chloe did’.

They dissolve into a knot of limbs and laughter.

‘Once Justin hears the message he tries to snatch the phone away from Chloe. But it’s too late. The damage is done. Chloe simply turned to Justin and said, "I’m going to need some significant therapy, or a new car, to erase this moment from existence and recover from that atrocity". And guess what Chloe is driving today?’ Mel prompts.

‘A new car?’ she asks in unison with PJ.

Mel just smiles and nods.

‘But that’s not the good part. You know that I like to share my clusterfucked behaviour with those nearest and dearest. So I wrote a text to my sister, I shall read it to you’.

Mel gets out her phone.

‘It says “Laura, you will appreciate my dickheadedness, but please do NOT share this with Mom. I have never sent Justin a remotely smutty text. Until today. I’m in Honolulu, trying to be a good wife. So I wrote said smutty text and Justin received it while he was in the car. With Chloe. With his phone in Chloe’s hands. And it was seen by Chloe’s eyes. So now we have to disown Chloe. Or buy her a car”’.

She and PJ burst out laughing.

Mel just stares at them and she nods again.

‘But I didn’t send that text to my sister. Did I?’

‘Nooooooooooooo,’ PJ moans.

‘Where did you send it?’ she sits bolt upright, metaphorically and literally on the edge of her seat.

‘To'.

'Justin's'.

’Parents'.

She and PJ completely lose it at this point. She’s laughing so hard she can’t see through her tears. Laughing so hard she can’t speak. She slides towards PJ and slumps against her.

‘Oh, Mel, that is definitely in your Hall of Fame’, gulps PJ.

‘Then Justin’s Dad texted me back’.

‘He did not,’ asserts PJ.

‘He did. Shall I also read that to you?’

‘Yes!!!’ they simultaneously implore. 

‘He says “Don’t worry Mel, your Mom won’t hear it from us”, followed by the winky face’.

She should have known better than to take a gulp of wine as Mel was reading. She ungracefully splutters her wine over her hand. 

‘Oh my God, I just adore the both of you,’ she sighs.

*

He is jolted from his slumber by the sound of keys scraping against their front door lock. A set of keys hit the floor followed by a ‘Fuckity, fuck, fuck fuck’. 

Tess.

He drags himself to the front door and opens it find his adorably confused wife kneeling on the floor gathering her keys and the contents of her handbag.

‘Is summin’ wrong with our lock,’ she looks up and gives him a shy smile. He squats down and helps her collect her lipstick and loose change before he draws her into the house. 

He cocks his head to the side and smiles.

‘You don’t think it could have been user error?’ he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

‘Poss’bly, I’m a teeny bit drunk and is affecting my fine ‘otor skills,’ she hiccups.

‘You don’t say,’ he laughs as he cups her face and sweetly kisses her lips. She tastes like Limoncello.

‘Hmmm, how much Limoncello did you drink tonight?’

Tess shrugs her shoulders and screws up her face like she’s thinking very hard about the answer.

‘Maybe a lot? ‘Cause I don’t remember drinking Limonsquello’ she charmingly slurs, her eyes wide before she giggles. 

‘Did you have a good night?’

‘The best,’ she exhales.

He wraps his arms around her and kisses her hair.

‘I laughed so hard my face hurts. But so tired now,’ she rests her head on his shoulder.

‘Let’s get you upstairs,’ he says as he scoops up Tess bridal style and begins to climb the stairs. 

‘You’re my best Scott,’ she whispers into his neck.

‘I’m you’re only Scott,’ he chuckles.

‘I know. I’m your girl. Always. Forever. If I die don’t marry anyone else. I know we say we’d like the other to remarry and be happy. But that’s bullshit. You’re my Scott. I’m not sharing,’ she burrows further into his neck.

He sighs on hearing this. She’s drunk but right on all accounts. Fuck, she's gorgeous. He's especially fond of her when she's drunk.

He turns his head to kiss her cheek as deposits her feet on their bedroom floor.

She looks into his eyes and gives a bewitching smile. She squeezes his cheeks in her hands. Hard.

‘Plus you are very good at fucking and your mouth is talented. I give you a ten out of ten for the fucking. I give Charlie White a two. It was terrible. All the others fall in between’.

He burst out laughing. 

‘Easy there tiger, you’re in loose lips mode’.

This is nothing he hasn’t heard from Tess when she’s sober but he’s worried she’ll tell him something Mel or PJ have confided in her. 

‘My ‘ove, you know all this. These aren’t secrets’.

Suddenly she looks panic stricken.

‘You know this right? You know the sex is good?' 

He tries to keep a straight face.

'I do know the sex is very good,' he whispers.

‘Thank fuck,' she breathes. 

Then, out of nowhere, she changes topics.

'Justin and Mel had to buy Chloe a new car because read she read a sext,’ Tess announces.

‘What the fuck? I very much look forward to unpacking that tomorrow,’ he says as he ushers her into the bathroom.

'No sexting for us,' Tess mumbles with a mouthful of toothpaste. 'We 'ave way 'oo many kids to buy them each a car'.

'I'm not gonna fight you on that,' he laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> You can see my very boring twitter account at @walkinrobe1
> 
> And rest assured, no children were harmed in the inspirational sexting story.
> 
> And, another and, buy yourself some Clinique Aromatics in White. People will stop you in the street and ask you what fragrance you're wearing. So will taxi drivers. True stories.


End file.
